


The Storm

by NeverAndAlways



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blizzards & Snowstorms, Childbirth, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, M/M, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Pregnancy, Pregnant Dean, Water birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3279251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic was written as a request for naughtyangelxo. Hope you like it! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [naughtyangelxo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naughtyangelxo/gifts).



"Dean?"

Sam pads into the library. There on the couch is his brother, stretched out with his laptop balanced precariously on the edge of a cushion. Sam hesitates a moment before approaching him; even now, nine months in, the sight of Dean with a baby bump still gives him pause. He tugs on the toe of his brother's sock. "Hey."

Dean startles and snaps his laptop shut, but not before Sam gets a glimpse of what he's looking at: a long, dense-looking article with the word LABOR in bold letters at the top. "What was that?" he asks, trying to sound casual.

"What?" Dean is the picture of innocence.

"That page."

"Oh. Just, uh..." Dean rubs his belly. "Just doin' some research."

Sam doesn't buy it, but Dean isn't about to give up his secret, so he lets it go. "Food's on the table." he says, jerking his head toward the kitchen.

"'kay."

Sam turns to leave. Dean coughs pointedly. "Uh, Sammy? Could use a hand here."

Oh. Right. Sam helps his brother up from the couch, and they walk together through the rows of books to the door. The library is carpeted, so the tiles of the hallway are a bit of a shock. It's cold even through his socks.

"So, is it still snowing out there?" Dean asks as he waddles along.

"Yep. Two feet, and the weather station says there's more on the way."

"Damn."

 

The kitchen is tiled, too, but somewhat warmer. Sam sits down at the table and digs into his lunch- a ham sandwich -while Dean goes to the counter. Castiel is standing there, busily fixing his own sandwich; Dean sneaks up behind him, loops an arm around his waist, and plants a kiss on the angel's temple. "Hey you."

Cas smiles acknowledgment. "Hello, Dean."

Dean peers over Cas' shoulder at the sandwich-in-progress, then playfully nuzzles into his neck. "So where's mine?"

"On the table." another nuzzle. Cas gently pushes him away. "Go. Eat."

Dean laughs and does as he's told.

-

Dean escapes back to the library as soon as he can. It's not that he doesn't want to be around Sam and Cas, but he just doesn't feel right. He woke up with this persistent, throbbing ache in his belly, and it's got him worried. The logical side of him insists that it's probably just Braxton-Hicks contractions (which have more or less been a fact of life for the past two months). The rest of him is both excited and terrified. After all, he's a week overdue. But even if they are real contractions, there's two feet of snow outside, and more to come. How are they supposed to get to the hospital?

So he waits it out.

He hangs around the library, skims through books, tinkers with his laptop. For a while it seems like things are calming down, and he's pretty smug. He's even comfortable enough to take a nap, which is wonderful.

But then, sometime around 6:00, he wakes up. And something's not right- urgently not right. His belly is hard and tight and there's this eerie feeling of something about to happen, like a rollercoaster climbing a hill. Somehow he hauls himself off the couch and out of the library, but that's as far as he gets before the rollercoaster goes over the hill. He knows exactly what the feeling is when it hits: a contraction, a real one. And it hurts like a sonofabitch. He has to bite his lip to keep from yelling. When it finally lets him go, he finds himself sort of slumped against the wall, and he's not sure exactly how he got there. No denying it now- he's definitely in labor. But no way is he gonna let Sam or Cas find him like this, so he picks himself up again, waits for his ears to stop ringing, and doggedly shuffles off to find them instead.


	2. Chapter 2

'...and gusts of up to 50 miles per hour expected later today. The snow is still piling up out there- up to three-and-a-half feet reported in some areas -so folks in and around Sioux Falls are advised to stay off the roads and stay inside.'

"Woo-hoo. Snow day." Sam deadpans, and nestles deeper into his chair. He and Cas are in one of the reading rooms, squinting at the Bunker's elderly little TV.

Cas just shrugs. "I like the snow."

"Four straight days of it? Don't tell me you aren't sick of the stuff."

Before Cas can answer, a shuffling in the doorway catches their attention. He and Sam turn toward the sound. It's Dean, cradling his belly with one hand and wearing a look of fierce determination. It's immediately obvious that something is wrong; Cas stands up from his chair as though pulled by a string. "Dean...?"

"It's time."

The angel cocks his head. "Time for what?"

"The baby's coming, Cas. I'm in labor."

Now Sam is standing up too. "Are you sure?"

"No, Sam, I'm totally joking." Dean glares at him. "Yes, I'm sure!"

"How far apart are the contractions?" Cas is at Dean's side in an instant, trying to support him as he makes his way to a chair.

"Dunno. Five, six minutes. Woke me up."

Sam swears under his breath at this. "Shit, Dean. Why didn't you say anything??"

"'Cause I didn't think they were the real deal. Aw, fuck-" Dean grits his teeth at the start of a new contraction. "We gotta get to the hospital, Sammy. This kid's coming fast."

"Right." Sam digs his phone out of his pocket, dials 9-1-1, and presses it to his ear.

'9-1-1, what is your emergency?'

"We need an ambulance, now. My- there's a person in labor here."

'Sir, the roads are closed. All our vehicles are off-duty.' the voice on the other end says calmly. 'Even if we could send an ambulance, it would probably take several hours to reach you.'

"But-"

'I'm sorry sir. I wish I could help, but I can't.'

And then the line goes dead. Sam stares at his phone. "You son of a bitch." he hisses.

"Sam?" Dean has recovered from his contraction and is staring at his brother in alarm. "What'd they say?"

Sam looks from his brother to Cas and back. He swallows hard.

"No dice. All their ambulances are off-duty."

"Damn." Dean drags a hand through his hair. "What about Bobby?"

"What about him?"

"Maybe he can help."

"Dean, if an ambulance can't get to us, what makes you think-"

"He's our only option, Sam! I am not having this baby here in the Bunker."

"Okay, okay." Sam dials Bobby's number, and taps his foot impatiently while it rings.

"Yeah?" a gruff voice answers.

"Bobby? It's Sam."

"What d'you want?" the reception in the Bunker is awful; it makes Bobby's already-rough voice sound like sandpaper.

"Dean's in labor-"

"Huh. 'bout time."

"-and we can't get an ambulance."

"So you want me to be your taxi service, is that it?"

"...Yeah." it sounds a little ridiculous, now that he's said it aloud. An exasperated snort crackles through the phone.

"Have you even seen the snow out there, boy? It's up past yer knees, and I sure as hell ain't got a snowplow."

"Bobby, please. You're our only option."

"Alrig**, fine." the old Hunter's voice starts to break into static. "I'** *** *n't********ld yer breath."

"Wait, you're breaking up, I can barely-"

"-**** th* car. I'm o******way***-" there's a burst of static, then dialtone, then silence. Sam barely resists the urge to fling his phone at the wall. He stuffs it in his pocket instead.

"Please tell me you have good news." says Dean.

"The snow's knee-height now. He's gonna try to get to us, but...we're pretty much on our own."

"I can't-" the color drains from Dean's face. He puts both hands on his belly as though protecting the baby inside. "We have to get to the hospital."

"Dean, I told you-"

"I can't do this here, Sammy, I'm not gonna have my baby here!" Dean tries to get up from his chair, fails, and settles for covering his face with his hands. "What if something happens, what if something's wrong with the baby?"

"You and the baby will be fine." Cas soothes him with a hand on his shoulder. Dean shrugs it off.

"How do you know? Dammit, Cas, we're not even prepared for this!"

"Dean, stop. Look at me." Sam bends down until he's at eye-level with his brother. Sometimes, the only way to get Dean's attention is to get in his face. "You're gonna be okay. We've made it through worse things than this. Cas and I will do whatever we can to help you, but you've gotta trust us, okay?" Dean looks away; Sam gives him a nudge. "Okay?"

Finally, Dean nods his consent and Sam lets him go. They've got a long night ahead of them.

-

This was not the plan. They should be at the hospital by now. Dean has been in labor for so long and he's making so little progress and they're still snowed in. He's gone from bed to couch to chair and back, around and around, and not once has Cas left his side. He follows Dean around the Bunker like a shadow. When the Hunter finally retreats back to his bed, Cas joins him, but not to sleep- although he does appreciate the chance to rest, he simply perches on the edge of the bed with a book. Dean sleeps fitfully; he tosses and turns and his shirt becomes damp with sweat. Cas checks his progress whenever he drifts into consciousness. He's still just inching forward, but at least it's something.

Eventually Dean gets restless again, but it's unfocused, as though he's searching for something but doesn't know where to look. Suddenly, in mid-contraction, he turns over and grabs Cas' hand. "Help. Please." he croaks.

"What can I do?"

"I don't know! Knock me out, cut the kid outta me, just make it stop." Dean whines and curls in on himself. Cas gives Sam a pleading look across the room. He's at a loss- as an angel, that's a feeling he's completely unaccustomed to. Sam looks thoughtful.

"I have an idea." Sam darts out of the room, and moments later there's the sound of running water. Dean struggles through two more contractions before he comes back. "I ran a bath." Sam explains to Cas when he returns, rolling up his sleeves. "Hopefully it'll help with the pain."

It takes both Sam and Cas' help to get Dean to the bathroom and into the tub, but once he's in, the change is almost immediate. He's calmer and seems much more focused. Cas even climbs in to sit with him (there's plenty of room; the Men of Letters did nothing by halves). Sam leaves the room at that point. Dean divested himself of everything but his undershirt hours ago, and now Cas has stripped down to his shorts. It's not that Sam is uncomfortable with this, but it feels like he's intruding somehow. So he goes and pours himself some coffee, eats a banana, and checks the weather report. And tries not to worry. It's been six hours since Dean announced that he was in labor. The contractions were five minutes apart then, he's dilated to eight centimeters now...how long has he been in labor? A glance at the clock tells him how long; it's almost midnight. Good god. And he's still got two centimeters to go.

As it happens, those last two centimeters are a long time coming. It's well past four a.m. by the time Dean is ready to push. And it doesn't happen gradually, either, like the rest of his labor did- one moment he's sitting sprawled in the tub, his back resting against Cas' chest, and the next he's splashing and cursing and scaring the daylights out of Sam and Cas. Cas struggles to keep up and keep out of the way of Dean's thrashing arms and legs. "Dean? Dean, look at me. What's wrong?"

"Motherfu- Cas, the baby...she's right there, I gotta push-!" Dean pants, pressing himself against the wall of the tub as Cas moves in front of him. The words have barely left his mouth before he curls forward and pushes with everything he's got. Sam, leaning on the edge of the tub, glances down; there's a sliver of what he assumes is the baby's head, but it looks wrong somehow. He glances back up to Cas and can't help noticing the flash of concern that crosses the angel's face.

"Oh god- Cas, Sammy, it burns, I-"

"I'm right here, Dean. You're okay." Cas floats a little closer so Dean has something to focus on. "Again."

Dean grunts and groans his way through another push. The sliver is wider when he relaxes, but it's obvious now that something's wrong. Cas sees it too; he puts his hands on Dean's knees and eases them farther apart. "Dean, stop. Stop for a moment."

"Why??" Dean pants hard and fast resisting the urge to push. The angel doesn't answer for a few moments, and when he finally sits back, his face is solemn.

"She's breech." he repositions himself in front of Dean. "Push hard with the next contraction."

Neither Dean nor Sam really knows what that means, but they don't have time to ask. The spasm crawls across Dean's belly and he gives in to it with a deep groan. Under the water's surface, the baby slides forward, then back again. Each push brings her a little farther out into the world, and brings Dean farther in. He's withdrawn into his own mind so deeply that he seems only vaguely aware of his brother and Cas, although he still responds to Cas' instructions. Only in the short space between contractions does he really notice their presence. He's surprisingly quiet and calm, too- all his earlier anxiety is just gone, replaced by a laser-like focus. He sinks into a steady rhythm of breathing and bearing down and his voice rises into a scream only when the widest part of the body passes. Two tiny legs flop loose into the water; another loud push and the torso and arms are delivered. Then he stops.

"C'mon, you're almost there." Sam tries to encourage him. Dean shakes his head.

"'m so tired." he slurs. His face is shining with sweat, and he's shivering. "Cas, help, I can't..." he swallows thickly.

Cas' eyes are suddenly flinty. He moves in close to Dean, like he saw Sam doing earlier. "Dean." he says severely. "I have never known you to give up, and now is not the time to start. You were strong enough to go through both Hell and Purgatory, you can do this too. Your daughter needs you; she cannot do this on her own." Dean's eyes open, and the angel's tone softens a little. "Just one more push, Dean. I'll be right here."

Dean hesitates, but Cas doesn't break his gaze. So he musters all his strength into a massive push and doesn't stop until he feels the baby slide, feet-first, into the water (it seems fitting, he thinks later, that she came into the world upside-down. Contrary, just like her dads.). Sam breathes a sigh of relief behind him, and there's a sudden weight against his belly.

"Give me your hands, Dean." Cas whispers.

So he does. And just like that, the past ten hours are gone. He's got his baby in his arms and she's bloody and sticky and he may or may not be crying. "Oh my god. Oh my god, Cas, she's here." he brings his eyes away from her long enough to look up at Cas. There are tears in the angel's eyes, too. Then the baby starts to cry softly, as though testing her voice, and the sound drags his attention right back to her. "Hi Aria. Hi, baby. Welcome to the world." he feels like he's just been through the world's longest Hunt. He's exhausted and sore and covered in his own blood and the strange thing is, he doesn't care. He really doesn't. Aria is here, healthy and safe and so damn perfect he may never stop smiling. He cups some water in his hand and tries to wash her off, but he's still shaking. Cas does it for him; his hand is as big as their daughter's entire head. Then, beaming, he wraps his arms around them both.

There are moments where everything just seems to fit, and the whole world feels exactly as it should be. There in the tub with Sam and Cas and his daughter, Something clicks into place. It feels right: they're a family. They're rough around the edges and a little messed up- a **lot** messed up -and they have no idea what they're doing, but they're a family.

Family don't end in blood, as Bobby says. But that's sure as hell where it starts.

oO0Oo


End file.
